


Dear John Watson

by HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Where John can't take living without Sherlock, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sad Ending, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide, i hate myself too, mentions of self harm, this has probably been done yet actually, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind/pseuds/HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind
Summary: After TRF John can't live his life without Sherlock and decides to come after him.





	Dear John Watson

**Author's Note:**

> Someone commented this on my Instagram account and I felt like it would make a good fanfiction. I'm not the most experienced fanfic writer, but let's see how it goes :D

Dr John Watson had never had a good day after his best friend jumped. Each day had actually seemed worse than the one before. He was used to the darkness and the empty space filling you when you knew someone had died, and as a war doctor he would often blame himself for the death. But this was different. This was very different. John would go on walks to keep his mind off Sherlock, but more than once the walks would end up at Holmes' grave. He had already been there twice this week and it was only Wednesday. The sandy haired man had never felt so alone before, so today he went back to the grave to talk. It felt better, like Sherlock could hear him. Obviously he couldn't, but it made John feel safe and the thought calmed him. John sat down staring at the tombstone. He traced his right index finger on the ingravings in the stone. For a really long time now John couldn't cry. All of the emotions were bottled up inside him. He wished he could cry, but John knew that if he started crying the tears would never stop. 

People had showed up at the funeral, not many, but some. The detective inspector Greg Lestrade was there, and Sherlock's brother too. Even Mrs Huson. It was actually her idea to have one. It might not have been what Sherlock wanted, but Mrs Hudson wouldn't let it go. John didn't come, he knew it was a foolish move of him, but at that time he had avoided all things Sherlock. 221B hadn't been touched by John at all after the fall. It actually hadn't been touched at all, Mrs Hudson didn't feel like cleaning there. To be honest John was pissed. More pissed than he'd ever been on anyone. How could Sherlock dare to leave John, to leave his best an donly friend alone on the battlefield. He was furious, yes. But the sadness was too big, too overwhelming to be forgotten. 

John Watson took a deep breath. He looked back at his day. Sleeping. That was all he was doing. Just sleeping. But he had also decided to walk a bit, thus ending up here. But there was something else. Something he didn't want to tell anyone, even Mrs Hudson. John slowly removed his hand from the tombstone and placed it over his right trouser pocket instead. He could feel the hard metal of his L9A1 through the fabric. He'd been here five times already the past month with the same idea clouding his mind. He wanted to meet Sherlock again so bad. Wanted to hug him. Wanted to say all the things he never did. Wanted to hold his long, slim fingers. Wanted to remember all their fun adventures togther with him. They should have had so many more years together. It was truly unfair how Sherlock just left. Without any warnings either. John pulled out the gun and looked at it. The urge was stronger now than it had ever been before. He made sure nobody was looking before carefully placing the gun to his temple. He loaded the gun and placed his finger on the trigger. He looked down at the flowers neatly placed infront of the tombstone.

"You... you told me once... that you weren't a hero. There were times where I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this. You were the best man, the most human, human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. So... there. I was so alone... and I owe you so much. But please there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Just stop it. Stop this."

The sound of the gun echoed through the graveyard as John Hamish Watson pressed down the trigger.


End file.
